


Vague and Various

by SamCyberCat



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-01-22 10:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12479580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamCyberCat/pseuds/SamCyberCat
Summary: A collection of short stories about many different Free! characters and ships. Each chapter contains a batch of different one-shots.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought that I'd collect these all into one place, so they were easier to find. I might add to this when I do more of these requests. Would you guys rather that I post new chapters as I write each individual drabble or that I wait until I have a bulk of drabbles and post them all as one chapter, like I have done here?
> 
> Anyway, all the drabbles here are unconnected from each other. So if you're only interested in, say, the Reigisa, you don't have to read the others as well. Just pick out whichever ones you fancy. For the OC ones, they both involve Chiyo from the Trail Mix stories. The Kisumi & Chiyo one could even pass as canon for the Trail Mix universe, as a look into their lives before the zombie outbreak.
> 
> I do post drabble request prompts from time to time on my tumblr. So if you're interested in that, you can find me here: https://sunkenscruffycat.tumblr.com/ Honestly, if you send me a Free! ship request at any time I'll probably write it if I can, because I just love writing for this series.

*** **  
Kisumi/Makoto (with implied Kisumi/Makoto/Sousuke)**

***  
  
Kisumi could sense Makoto’s unhappiness from the sole arm that was sticking out from under the pile of blankets. So he took hold of Makoto’s hand and gripped it for morale support. Beneath the blankets, Makoto let out a low whine.

“You’re doing great, just hang in there,” Kisumi soothed. He tried not to laugh, but a few giggles slipped out and he could tell that Makoto had heard them.

“I don’t think that ‘sweating it out’ is actually a thing,” Makoto said, his voice muffled, “Please Google it for me and send Sousuke your findings. I’m probably not going to make it.”

“Come on, you know Sousuke doesn’t trust looking up anything medical online. Not when he can use a remedy that’s been in his family for generations,” replied Kisumi.

“Maybe if I burn to death he’ll finally learn…” Makoto grumbled.

Kisumi rolled his eyes; “Don’t be like that.”

“I’m ill, I can be however I want.”

Well, that was it. Kisumi decided that he’d had enough. So he shifted several of the blankets until he could see Makoto’s face, which was bright red and about as sorry-looking as Kisumi had ever seen him. With his most reassuring smile, Kisumi lay down next to him, snuggling in.

“Kisumi, you can’t… you’ll catch whatever I have…” Makoto insisted.

“It’ll be worth it to help you through these trying times. Besides, then Sousuke will have to look after both of us and I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Kisumi hummed.

Perhaps if Makoto had been at full strength, then he might have argued with Kisumi, but he was too weak and overheated to bother right now. So instead he lifted up an arm and slung it over Kisumi, admitting defeat. The two of them would sweat this thing out together.

***

**Kisumi/Original Character (Chiyo)**

***  
  
Kisumi’s breath was unsteady and he could feel that he was still shaking all over. More with anger than with fear, but also a bit with slightly delayed fear. Guys like that could ruin your whole night and that was exactly what had happened. What was the point of harassing someone like that guy had done with Kisumi? Surely everyone who came to the Splash Free did so to have a good time? But Kisumi would be lying if he said that this was his first time to run into negative attention at the club. Or even the tenth, for that matter. Ugh.

At least he’d sent the intrusive guy packing, even before Chiyo had gotten back from the bar with their drinks. The guy probably wouldn’t have bothered him if Chiyo hadn’t left, but Hell, Kisumi shouldn’t have to worry about needing to stick with his friend all night in a club in his own home town.

Chiyo instantly knew what had happened though. He set their drinks down on the table and sat next to Kisumi, concern etched across his features.

“Do I need to sort someone out?” he checked.

“No. I Already did,” Kisumi replied, sounding sharper than he’d intended to. He took a deep sigh; “Sorry Chiyo, it’s just… why does this always happen? Why can’t people take a hint?”

But he knew that Chiyo didn’t have the answer either. So instead Kisumi just slumped against him, feeling safer now that he was here.

“Maybe we should find another club. It’s not worth you having to put up with this crap,” Chiyo said.

“Nah, I’m too set in my ways here and the other ones are either stupidly expensive or too far away,” dismissed Kisumi, “…Besides, this is the club where we first met, let me be sentimental.”

“I’d rather you were safe,” Chiyo insisted.

“You worry too much.”

“Of course I do. You’re… well, you’re important to me,” Chiyo muttered, staring off in the other direction. He was cute when he got shy.

“Thanks… but I promise it’ll be fine. We’re here looking out for each other. Guys like that just slip through the cracks sometime,” assured Kisumi.

“You’re still shaken though,” Chiyo pointed out.

Kisumi smirked; “Can you deal with that?”

“Sure.”

With than, Chiyo reached over and put his hands on Kisumi’s shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly. Within moments, Kisumi felt himself start to relax, the tension dripping away.

“People might get the wrong impression,” Chiyo hummed, as Kisumi let out a particularly satisfied sigh.

“Let them think whatever they want,” replied Kisumi.

As long as he was safe and secure, he couldn’t care less right now.

***

**Sousuke/Makoto (Splash Free AU)**

***  
  
Makoto winced as the bandage was drawn tight, but Sousuke knew that a tight bandage would serve him better in the long run. Especially since they had no idea when they’d be back in civilisation long enough to get him a new one. There was only so much of Sousuke’s robes that he could tear off, even if he knew in himself that he’d use every last piece of cloth on his body if it meant taking care of Makoto.

They were two days off-track and the desert was unforgiving, as had been the bandits that had raided them during the night. Two two of them managed to send them packing before too much harm was done, but they’d made off with all of the goods that Sousuke and Makoto had been bringing back for Prince Rin. It was a wasted trip now, but as long as Makoto got back safely, that was what Sousuke cared about the most.

“You were reckless,” Sousuke commented, as Makoto flexed his arm to check the bandage.

“Says the man who tried to charge their horse,” replied Makoto.

“It was old, I thought I could take it,” Sousuke dismissed, “Are you ready to move again?”

“I think so. Just give me a moment to pull myself together.”

Sousuke nodded. He got up to check their supplies. The bandits had made off with most of their food, but at least they’d been merciful enough to leave them water. Either that or they’d just overlooked the casks. A foolish mistake to make out here.

He saw Makoto’s shadow come up behind him before he felt the kiss on his shoulder, but he welcomed it all the same. Makoto could tell that he was shaken, even if Sousuke wouldn’t admit it.

“We’ll be fine,” Makoto whispered into his ear, “It’s only a two day travel back to town and we have enough to get there. So we’ll get hungry? Not as if that’s never happened before.”

“Rin’s gonna be pissed that we’re empty-handed,” Sousuke muttered.

“Then he can trek across the desert for his own damn trinkets if he cares that much,” said Makoto.

“You can tell him that.”

“I will.”

And Sousuke knew that he would. So with that decided, he pulled himself and the two of them loaded what remained of their supplies into the packs on the camels, so they carry on. It wouldn’t be an easy journey, but as long as he had Makoto by his side, Sousuke had no doubt that he would endure.

***

**Sousuke/Makoto/Kisumi**

***  
  
Different strokes for different folks.

Makoto had heard that phrase before, followed by Nagisa’s shrieking with a laughter so fruity that it left no one in the room doubting why he was laughing. Yet even so, Makoto was starting to figure out what it meant. Not in… th-that way. Well okay, to some people that probably was the case, but that wasn’t how Makoto thought about it.

Though in his case, it was more like different strokes from different folks.

Makoto was a big guy. He was gentle with most, because most people couldn’t handle him if he wasn’t. But Sousuke could. Makoto could throw at Sousuke whatever he couldn’t do to most people and Sousuke would not only endure it, but enjoy enduring it. The same worked in the reverse. They were both built to handle taking out their tension on each other.

So when Sousuke worked Makoto’s shoulders, it was intense and exhausting and everything that Makoto needed. Sousuke pushed into all the cracks and muscles. Nothing was ever left untouched. A massage from Sousuke was like going on a hike up a mountain. Hard work at the time, but once you’d got to the top and seen how much ground you’d covered, you knew that it was worth it.

Then there was Kisumi, all the way at the other end of the spectrum. Because yeah, there were days when Makoto just wanted to be destroyed by one of Sousuke’s deep massages, but there were also days when he just wanted to relax. Work was hard and Makoto tended to devote more time to his job than he did do himself. So sometimes when he came home, he’d collapse on the sofa and just be done.

That was when Kisumi stepped in. He was so light and gentle, but soothing in a way that no one else was. More often than not, at the end of Kisumi softly massaging his back, Makoto would be sound asleep and Kisumi would see that as a compliment. It meant that this was a job well done.

…Okay, so actually that probably wasn’t at all what that phrase meant, was it? It was probably more about different people needing different approaches. Whereas Makoto was one single person who needed different approaches. But regardless, he certainly got everything he wanted from both Sousuke and Kisumi, so no matter how any old phrases went, Makoto wouldn’t change them for the world.

***

**Rei/Nagisa**  
  
***  
  
Nagisa’s cheeks are puffed out from the third Iwatobi bread he’s crammed into his mouth. There’s cream all over his face. He’s somehow managed to get chocolate on one of his eyebrows. How does he even eat these things to get chocolate on his eyebrows? That’s a question Rei’s probably better off not knowing the answer to and yet still he watches, mesmerised by the sight in front of him. Nagisa swallows hard, pounding his chest to get the lump down, before he grabs another Iwatobi bread from the pile and repeats the process again. It should be terrifying. In many ways it is terrifying. And yet Rei can’t look away.

After the next round of bread, Nagisa notices him watching. Perhaps Rei is looking at him funny, because Nagisa blinks at him several times.

“Somethin’ wrong, Rei-chan?” Nagisa asks.

Rei shakes his head, smiling fondly.

“Nothing at all, I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” Rei replies.

Nagisa laughs so hard that crumbs spray out of his mouth. It takes him a moment to recover. He even grabs his can of soda and takes a swig to try to settle his chest down from all the laughing. He’s definitely going to get indigestion.

“Beautiful? When I’m stuffing my face like this!” Nagisa gasps, once he’s managed to calm down enough to talk.

Rei reaches forward, wiping some of the cream off Nagisa’s cheek.

“Yes, of course.”

***

**Makoto/Original Character (Chiyo)**  
  
*** __  
  
“I have a cat, but she doesn’t take well to strangers. So don’t be offended if she runs and hides the moment we get through the door.”

That had been what Chiyo told Makoto when they’d got back to his apartment. Fizz was a nervous creature, affectionate in her own way, but definitely not towards people she didn’t know. It had taken her weeks to warm up to Chiyo and he thought of himself as being pretty good with animals. Not like, amazing or anything, but good enough that they generally seemed to like him.

…Yet within minutes of them being in the living room, Fizz had curled up on Makoto’s lap, purring in complete contentment. Apparently Makoto was a fucking cat-whisperer. He didn’t even seem to do anything, she just instantly liked him. She’d weaved in and out between Makoto’s feet until he’d gotten to the sofa, then she'd climbed up and sat on him.

The two of them had now been that way for half an hour. That was the amount of time that Chiyo had lost Makoto to his own damn cat.

Fizz wasn’t light by any means, so Makoto couldn’t have budged even if he’d wanted to. But he clearly didn’t want to anyway, given that he’d been fussing over Fizz the whole time, cooing and stroking under her chin.

He then noticed the way Chiyo was frowning at him and laughed.

“Jealous much?” Makoto asked.

“No, of course not,” Chiyo replied.

He was jealous. So jealous. Which must have been obvious, because Makoto chuckled again. It was a nice sound. Despite his annoyance, Chiyo couldn’t stop himself from liking it.

“Hey, so… can I kiss you?” said Makoto.

Chiyo raised an eyebrow at him; “Sure? But why ask now? You don’t need to check for permission at this stage.”

“Because I’m stuck in this spot. Your cat weighs a ton. And you’re sitting over there sulking, so I can’t just reach over to you,” Makoto answered.

Okay, that was a good reason. Chiyo was stubborn when it came to Makoto, but even he had to admit defeat with that one. Besides, he definitely did want to spend time with Makoto, no matter what Fizz had to say in the matter. So he shimmied closer, putting his arm around Makoto and feeling nervous despite himself.

Makoto didn’t feel nervous though. He reached over and kissed Chiyo lightly, giggling against his cheek. He seemed to revel in Chiyo’s stubbornness, which was part of the reason that Chiyo hadn’t felt a need to stop yet. When Makoto pulled away, he rested his head against Chiyo’s and sighed.

“See? We can make this work, no matter how difficult your cat is,” he said.

And Chiyo kind of knew that he was right. Not just about the cat part. Regardless, Fizz made a small _‘brrhh’_ noise as she rolled over, as if she knew she was being talked about. Cats always knew.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains two unconnected one-shots. In the first, Nitori deals with the sometimes overwhelming Mikoshiba brothers (sadly written before Isuzu was around or else I'd have added her as well) and in the second, we take a look into an AU with an unusual Kisumi ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With tumblr going down the drain, I wanted up update this with some fics previously only posted there, just in case they get lost in the purge. There's only two stories in this chapter, but I thought a short update was better than none at all. I'll still take Free! ship requests via twitter now and update _Vague and Various_ when I have a batch of at least three.

***

**Nitori, Seijuro & Momo (Friendship)**

***

There were many things that should have told Nitori before now that sharing an apartment with both Mikoshiba brothers was a bad idea.

Maybe the first hint should have been when they'd had to call in a plumber after an overly involved (but good spirited, because it was always good spirited with them...) brawl had somehow resulted in the pipes under the sink being knocked out of place. Another hint could've been the time that Seijuro invited the entirety of the former Samezuka swim team over for a gaming night that had almost resulted in Sousuke drunkenly trying to arrest both Rin and himself. Or maybe the time that Momo left his beetle tank open and Nitori was finding the distant descendants of Pyunsuke in his sock drawer for weeks afterwards. Not to mention the time that the whole Mikoshiba family had come over for an impromptu reunion that none of them had told Nitori about until after he'd gotten back from work. It turned out that there were a lot of Mikoshiba living in the immediate area. All of them were just as loud and red-haired as the two brothers themselves were. At least they all made Nitori feel like one of the family after knowing him for only a few hours. Though now Nitori's Christmas card list was considerably longer.

But regardless, the fact of the matter was that there were a lot of signs that Nitori should have picked up on sooner. Never a day went by when something didn't happen. Yet Nitori always reasoned with himself that at least it kept his life interesting. He would just get bored if he was on his own.

On the other hand, sometimes it would be nice to have some peace and quiet. Nitori had gotten neither of those for a long time. He barely even remembered what they looked like. Whenever he tried to picture peace or quiet, a smiling, ginger face would appear to stamp on either notion.

This was... fine. Right...?

Nitori didn't need personal space all that much. He had a roof over his head and that was enough. He didn't need to be able to read his... questionable books without Momo leaning over every time to ask what they were about. It was good that Momo was showing an interest. He didn't need the iced tea that Seijuro kept taking out of the fridge to make room for more protein shakes. It was good that Seijuro was getting all of his... protein?

The more time went on, the harder it became for Nitori to make excuses to himself for every little thing that the two brothers did to rub him the wrong way.

But it was none of the above that pushed Nitori over the edge when it came to their situation. The final straw was a pillow fort.

It had been a hard day at work. Nitori's manager had been particularly unforgiving about matters that Nitori didn't feel were his fault. But when his shift was over, Nitori was looking forward to getting back home, so he could to curl up on the sofa with a warm cup of hot chocolate.

Except that he couldn't do that, because all of the sofas were currently minus their cushions. The living room had been turned upside down. It looked like a tactical wasteland of cushions and blankets, with a proud flag propped up in the middle of the room, bearing a badly-drawn picture of an otter. Nitori couldn't see the floor, just a tunnel of blankets.

“What's going on here?” he asked.

“Shhhh!”

That was when Momo's head popped out from a gap in the blankets. He looked more serious than he had done about anything in his life.

“Momo, why does the living room look like this?” said Nitori. And then, as Momo rose further up out of the pillow fort, Nitori added, “Are you wearing a cape?”

“I can neither confirm or deny the cape,” Momo replied, tapping his nose as if he was speaking in code.

Nitori frowned; “I can see the cape, Momo.”

“Shh! If you keep saying that then he'll know!” hissed Momo.

“Who'll kno-”

That was when Seijuro charged out from the kitchen and tackled Momo down into the fort. Soon there was a massive tangle of blankets and Mikoshiba brothers, before Momo managed to crawl away behind the sofa and apparently eluded Seijuro.

“Did you see which way he went?” Seijuro checked, turning to Nitori.

“He's behind the- ...No wait, he's motioning for me not to tell you,” said Nitori, “Um, what's going on?”

“He has the cape!” Seijuro announced.

“I... saw that,” assured Nitori, “But what does that mean?”

“That means he's winning!” said Seijuro. Then he caught sight of Momo trying to sneak out from behind the sofa and get into the kitchen; “...Hold up, Momo! Not the kitchen! That's my territory!”

He charged off after Momo, leaving a very confused Nitori standing amidst a pile of dislodged blankets.

“So what's my territory then...?” Nitori mumbled.

Of course the brothers didn't hear him. And on most days that would have been good enough for Nitori. He would have shrugged it off and gone to his room until the two of them had settled down. If they ever settled down. But that wasn't how Nitori reacted today. Because today, something snapped inside him.

He marched off to his room and over to his wardrobe, digging through the piles of unsorted outfits within it. Nitori was a hoarder. He'd be the first to admit that. So it was never an easy task to find anything in his room. But eventually he pulled out what he was looking for and then went into the kitchen, where Momo was trying to wrestle his cape back off Seijuro.

“Let go! It's mine! I'm the true king!” Momo wailed.

“Not if I steal your crown you're not!” boomed Seijuro.

“Ahem!” Nitori coughed, somehow managing to drown both of them out, despite being quieter.

Momo and Seijuro both turned to stare at Nitori, looking up at him from the floor as if he'd just flipped his lid.

“Ai... are you wearing a cape?” Momo asked.

Nitori puffed out his chest; “That is an excellent question, Momotarou. I may or may not be wearing a cape right now,” he said, before grinning down at them both, “Hint: I am.”

“But what does this mean...?” Seijuro asked, his voice filled with awe.

“I means that I am the king, sultan, president, archbishop and supreme champion of all that dwells within this apartment,” Nitori told him.

Upon hearing that, Seijuro let go of the cape he'd been previously trying to wrestle from Momo.

“That sounds way better than your cape, Momo,” Seijuro said.

“Then we'll just have to take it from him!” cried Momo, jumping to his feet.

But Nitori was faster. He jumped backwards before either one could grab him and waggled his finger to keep them in place.

“Oh no, that's not how this cape works,” Nitori said, “Even if you physically take it from me, you will not win the spirit of the cape.”

“Then how do we win?” asked Momo, who wasn't sure about a game that he couldn't wrestle the answer out of.

“Only once you've appeased the current keeper of the cape, may it be passed onto you,” Nitori explained. He tried to sound as ominous as he could.

For once, Nitori had the full attention of both brothers. He wasn't sure that they'd buy it. Part of him assumed that they'd just dismiss what he was saying and then go back to their original game. But right now, Nitori had the floor. Seijuro took a bow.

“Your wish is my command, your majesty,” Seijuro said.

“No way! His wish is my command!” protested Momo, “Tell me what I can do, Mr. King!”

Nitori grinned; “Well, you could both start with putting the living room back to right before that documentary about mummified cats starts, because I've been waiting for that all day,” he said, “And if the laundry that I just know is all over the bathroom floor finds its way to the washing machine, then I might award a few bonus points for that.”

“Right!”

“Of course!”

With that, Momo and Seijuro were practically tripping over each other to get out the door and do as much cleaning as they could. Nitori watched them go with considerable satisfaction.

...Perhaps living with both Mikoshiba brothers might have been a bad idea, but Nitori felt that he was starting to get a handle on it.

***

**Kisumi/Rei**

***

There he was again.

The handsome man on the opposite platform. He was there like clockwork every day that Kisumi came to the station. Like Kisumi, he must be making some kind of commute, possibly for work. Their trains crossed the station at similar times each day, but that was the only thing about Kisumi and the handsome man that ever crossed paths.

If they had been getting the same train to the same destination, then Kisumi would've undoubtedly talked to the man long before now. Kisumi was not at all shy, but he also wasn't desperate enough to make an excuse to go to the opposite platform just to talk to this man, no matter how handsome he was. Besides, if Kisumi did that, he'd run the risk of missing his own train.

Perhaps because he couldn't talk to the man, Kisumi found himself growing more intrigued by him with each time he saw him at the station. He had a feeling that he might've met the man before, though they definitely hadn't gone to school together. Maybe he'd seen him at a culture festival. Though it'd been years since Kisumi had been to one of those, not since high school. So even if he had seen the man at one of those, he couldn't remember it.

As well as being handsome, the man was tall and well-dressed, always carrying a briefcase and with a sharp pair of glasses to finish off his look. He came across like someone who had his life together. Which was more than could be said for Kisumi... But perhaps Kisumi could be exactly the wild fling that someone who looked so sensible needed in his life. Kisumi would settle for that.

If the man looked up even once, then Kisumi could catch his eye. He might even wave at him. Something could happen from there. But the man always kept his head down, eyes set in firmly concentration, even when he was staring off into space.

But today, it finally happened. Just as Kisumi was about to give up on hoping the man might look over, suddenly the man's head moved. Kisumi felt his heart rate speed up. The man had never once looked up before. Then the man turned his head and raised his hand, as if to wave. Was he waving at Kisumi?

Before Kisumi even knew what he was doing, he'd raised his own hand to wave back.

Yet it was not meant to be. As Kisumi's hand hovered awkwardly in the air, the man kept on turning. He turned to look at the stairs that led to his side of the platform, where someone was hurrying over to greet him and waving wildly. The man was waving at that person, not at Kisumi. So Kisumi lowered his hand and watched as the two people greeted each other. Clearly they were friends and perhaps closer than that. The person who'd just arrived, a short man with a wild crop of blonde hair, hugged the handsome man tightly as soon as he reached him.

Yes, definitely closer than friends...

Ah well, you can win them all. As Kisumi resigned to the fact that his daydreams about the man on the opposite platform would never come to pass, his own train pulled in. He got onboard and began his day, feeling only mild disappointment at this loss of something that was never even anything.

***

“Was that him, Rei-chan? The one with the pink hair?” Nagisa asked, as a train pulled up on the opposite platform and obscured the pink-haired stranger from view, “He seems cute! Why don't you talk to him?”

Rei hesitated. He looked across, but the pink-haired man had gotten onto his train now. Rei wouldn't see him again until tomorrow, just like always. And just like always, Rei would stare at the ground, too embarrassed to even risk catching his eye.

“Ah... well, the two of us are going in different directions, aren't we?” Rei replied, “Our routines are too different.”

As Nagisa let go, he openly rolled his eyes so Rei would see him do it.

“If you never make any changes, then of course you'll never get to meet him,” said Nagisa, “Honestly, Rei-chan, you can be so hopeless sometimes.”

But then if the man on the opposite platform never made any changes either, perhaps the two of them would both always be hopeless.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin tries to get Haru to admit that he's jealous, but it turns out that Haru has his own ways of admitting this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Okay, so I lied when I said the next chapter would have more stories, as this chapter only has one single story. But I found this old RinHaru request while digging through my tumblr (I'd honestly forgotten that I'd ever written this) and wanted to back it up here as well. But this should be the last of the reuploads and hopefully the next chapter will be entirely new content.

*******   
  
**Rin/Haru - Olympic Champions**

*******

“So now I have actual video footage of you being jealous,” Rin goaded.

“Do you?” replied Haru, without so much as batting an eyelid.

“Well… probably. I mean, someone back home had to have recorded that,” said Rin, “Two of their best friends being interviewed after doing so well in the Olympics? Why would they miss out on something like that?”

Haru stepped to aside as a crew of cameramen walked past them. Then he asked, “…And what was it I was being jealous of again?”

“Come on! Don’t act like you don’t know,” Rin scoffed, “When that reporter was talking to me, you were glaring like nothing I’d ever seen before. It’s called PR, Haru, you have to flirt with the cameras at least a bit.”

Though Rin was fully aware that Haru knew exactly what PR was and just chose to ignore it, like so much else in their world of gold medals and pride of place. It had taken such a long time to get Haru to come around to the Olympics, yet even when he had done, Haru played by his own rules, not caring who he offended so long as the two of them were competing like they wanted to. Part of Rin preferred it that way, it made the whole situation more entertaining and the last thing he’d want was for Haru to become predictable.

“You must have been looking at me a lot to notice that,” Haru pointed out.

Rin gaped at him; “I’m not… no, I’m not the one who was jealous. Don’t turn this around!”

“I never said that you were,” assured Haru.

“You were practically saying it though. Seriously, is it so hard to admit that you were bothered by how I was talking to that reporter?” said Rin, “All you need to do is go, _‘okay, maybe I was a bit jealous’,_ it’s not that hard.”

But Haru wasn’t looking at Rin any more, he was looking past him. When Rin turned to see why that was, he realised that the same reporter who’d done their interview was headed out of the studio and walking in their general direction. So Haru thinks he wasn’t jealous, eh? Time for Rin to test out a theor-

…That was when Haru put his arms around Rin and pulled him into the side.

“Haru, what are you doing?” Rin hissed.

He didn’t get an answer. At least not a verbal one. Before he knew what was happening, Haru had pulled him in for a kiss, one that felt more heated than even what they’d been doing last night, when it was just the two of them in their hotel room. Haru had something to prove. And that lasted until the reporter had gone past them and disappeared down the hallway, it seemed, because that was when he let go again. Not that Rin realised this until he’d pulled himself back together a good few moments after Haru let go of him.

“Jeez Haru…” he laughed.

“We should go,” prompted Haru, heading past Rin without another word.

“Whatever you say,” Rin purred.

He realised that Haru didn’t need to admit that he was jealous for Rin to know that was the case. Haru’s actions spoke much louder than his words.


End file.
